


Let Me Make You Happy

by pandafarts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Otabek Altin is a Good Boyfriend, Tattoos, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24514228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandafarts/pseuds/pandafarts
Summary: “Let’s get something to eat. You’ve sat for awhile now.” Otabek suggests gently.Yuri smiles, the sting of his skin pales far in comparison to his contented happiness.“Ok.” He links his good arm in Otabek’s, aware of the smile stretched across his own face “but you’re buying.”Or the fic where Otabek and Yuri finally get together and get matching tattoos to celebrate
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	Let Me Make You Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Author has no tattoos and has no idea what they feel like. Yuri's a little immature in this, probably more in character than my other fics haha. Please enjoy this barely edited google translated masterpiece XD 
> 
> Enjoy <3

The tattoo gun felt like that one time when he was four, playing outside and a bee stung him on the thumb: itchy, stinging, eventually rubbed raw with his other fingers and desperately even his teeth until mom put mittens on his hands and insisted that he stop. That was different, this was okay, this discomfort wouldn’t last, but the words would, and it soothed the ache in his chest.

Then again, the ache was already a lot lighter. The person holding his other hand was solid and gentle, their pulse discernable through their grasp, as the words they themselves had spoken are carved ever so carefully onto Yuri’s other wrist, not complaining when Yuri squeezes back a little too tight.

“I have to say, I’m still flattered,” Otabek says evenly. He’s not the most excitable person; a terrific compliment to Yuri’s own contrasting manic energy, so hearing him speak his emotions always felt like a privilege. Yuri has always had a sneaking suspicion that Otabek didn’t let people in (like really in) until he really wanted to. If Otabek’s flattered about the tattoo, then Yuri’s flattered that they are what they are.

The concept, no, the mere possibility of being boyfriends still fills him with such a thrill. To know that they actually were blew his freaking mind.

There was a time, not terribly long ago, where they didn’t talk at all. That was when the ache in Yuri’s chest got worse, where he became nearly sick with it. The times were Otabek wouldn’t speak to him was one of the worst times of Yuri’s life including when Dedushka was sick. The old fart was okay now, but in the time where he was sick and Yuri had so much going on, he hadn’t neglected the friendship as much as he had antagonized it.

“Shut up,” Yuri says lightly, “of course I’d get it tattooed. It’s the best thing anyone’s said to me.”

Yuri had realized that he was gay and in love with Otabek long after Barcelona (and that ‘madness’) but his feelings, unlike their theme song, were unwelcome. He was scared. Being gay wasn’t an acceptable thing in Russia and he had been ashamed. He wasn’t scared of Otabek being angry at him. He wasn’t an angry or a judgmental person, but he knew that if he told him, he’d turn him down very gently and that would have killed Yuri.

At that point they had the closest, most precious friendship that Yuri had ever experienced. Mila and Georgi and the lovebirds were fine and all (if not frequently maddeningly obnoxious) but he felt like he could say anything and Otabek would understand.

It’s the times he didn’t understand that made Yuri fall in love.

“I’m not sure I’ve dealt with that, tell me more,” Otabek said on one memorable occasion. To know he accepted Yuri, knew how he worked most of the time, and asked questions when he didn’t, made Yuri so happy he could barely stop. He wanted to text, video chat, fly down for visits every day.

He wasn’t sure if friendship was enough anymore. He wanted Otabek to love him. Like _love him,_ love him. If he didn’t, Yuri wasn’t sure he could take it.

The thought of a straight Otabek, dating, marrying, having kids with women without even knowing how Yuri felt made him feel like the world was ending.

So he did the logical thing: he stopped talking to Otabek. He lashed out. Eventually Otabek was so hurt that all possibility of them being together romantically was gone and the friendship was hanging by a thread. Yuri still had his number on his phone. He hovered his thumb over it often.

So what? Call and tell him I love him? That I can’t bare the fact that he might not want me?

Tattoos, pulled muscles, sprained ankles, that’s cake. This type of pain he cannot do, not with dignity. He sulks, and retreats and bites the person who tries to help.

And boy did Otabek try to help.

“I know you’re hurting. How can I help you?”

“Are you mad at me? Tell me how to fix it.”

The texts poured in, until even Otabek gave up.

After a few months of this they had met at a competition. They had met eyes and for some reason Yuri couldn’t look away or snarl. He wanted Otabek in his life, in all shapes and forms. He wanted anything he could have. It didn’t feel like greed, though. It felt like desperation, like he was dehydrated and Otabek was a tall glass of ice water.

On that day their eyes met, Otabek’s showing nothing but concern and Yuri felt some of the false anger and some of the very real shame melt away. It must have shown because Otabek had softened too. That was the day Yuri felt like he was going to cry.

“What room are you in? We need to talk,” Otabek had said gently. Yuri could have been rude. He could have kept up the charade where he didn’t get hurt, because Otabek did. But he didn’t want to hurt Otabek, not anymore.

So instead, while feeling incredibly selfish he had schooled his expression into something as neutral as possible and says “Room 607. I’ll meet you after the press conference.”

Yuri is pulled from his memory as the artist wipes again at his wrist. The lettering is even and perfectly legible. He had been shown options for complex and flowery designs, but the point of having it here was being able to read it again and again while Otabek wasn’t there to speak the words with his own mouth. Even so, he was living here now, so the times he couldn’t speak his affirmations were growing more and more limited. He was there for Yuri now, in most every way. He had been there for him when they talked too.

Otabek had stood across from him, his mouth open, ready to speak, and Yuri wanted to interrupt. He wasn’t going to end a friendship like this. He was still embarrassed.

He knows that he had been a total jerk. He knows Otabek probably doesn’t want him. He’s not ready for the words he knows are coming, but he owes Otabek this much at least. He will listen, and as hard as it was for him, he would apologize.

The words he got were unexpected.

Otabek breathes in, speaks, “When we were in the camp, and when I looked across the room and saw how talented you were, I wasn’t jealous. I wanted to improve until I was on your level, so I could be your equal. But when we reconnected, I realized how lonely you were and wondered…. I wondered if I could make you happy. Let me make you happy”

The artist finishes. He starts going over the aftercare. Yuri barely listens. The Cyrillic looks perfect on his skin, the promise of it rings true even now. Being understood, being cared for, it settled him down in his bones.

позволю тебе сделать тебя счастливым _Let me make you happy._

Otabek knew that Yuri loved him, and he loved Yuri too. He forgave him for lashing out. He was brave enough for both of them. His own arm was already wrapped, his own fresh tattoo finished just before Yuri’s.

Yuri had stood in front of him feeling like he actually had a chance.

“Let’s get something to eat. You’ve sat for awhile now,” Otabek suggests gently.

Yuri smiles, the sting of his skin pales far in comparison to his contented happiness.

“Ok.” He links his good arm in Otabek’s, aware of the smile stretched across his own face “but you’re buying.”

Otabek itches at the tattoo before they get on the bike, Yuri’s answer that day had been etched on his skin for forever just the same.

“What are you hungry for?” Yuri asks.

“I want… Hmmm let me think.” Otabek stops scratching and Yuri admires the words he has now too.

Ты всегда делаешь меня счастливым _You always make me happy._


End file.
